Nothing but Trouble
by ncfan
Summary: -Matsuri, Sari- Sakura's not the only girl who got a haircut. Companion to 'Desert Kindness'.


**Characters**: Sari, Matsuri**  
Summary**: Sakura's not the only girl who got a haircut. Companion to _Desert Kindness._**  
Pairings**: None**  
Author's Note**: You really, really need to read _Desert Kindness _before you read this. And yeah, I know, their ages—vaguely alluded to—aren't really canon, but I dance to my own beat, and Matsuri seems like a younger girl.**  
Disclaimer**: I don't own Naruto.

* * *

Sari had been… _different_ after that mission taken with the Kazekage and six other nin. Matsuri, who had known her for years now, could see it, sense it in her bones.

That was why she hadn't been as surprised as she ought to have been when the doorbell to Matsuri's apartment rang and Sari was standing outside, looking unusually pale, her eyes heavy and tired in her face.

It had been a long day at the hospital, Matsuri supposed; Sari's work was fulfilling, she knew, but still tiring. Looking at her, Matsuri was sure she wouldn't want to be a medic. Not for the world would she have her eyes look so heavy, her face so drained. Not for the world would Matsuri be willing to look so _old_.

"Hi, Sari." Matsuri summoned a wide smile to her face as the night darkness from outside bled into the apartment and Sari stepped inside. Her shoes dropped by the doormat—_plenty dusty, just as it was inside. Matsuri was going to have to tell her to shake them when she left; she'd been having serious trouble with scorpions lately_—and Sari collapsed on the couch, pillowing her head against her elbows.

Matsuri dropped to one knee and rubbed Sari's shoulder; a single honey-brown eye faced her view now. "Tired, Sari?"

Sari squeezed her eyes tightly shut and nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"I've got some soba in the fridge. Do you want me to warm it up?"

Sari nodded again; Matsuri smiled and made her way into the kitchen. She wasn't much of a cook, but soba was simple enough to prepare and easy enough for Matsuri's limited culinary skills. The microwave left the noodles a little hard around the edges but Sari was likely to be able to handle that.

The older girl righted herself on the couch as they ate in silence, only the chopsticks clinking against the slightly chipped ceramic bowls and the sound of slurped noodles breaking the quiet. They used to eat like this all the time, Matsuri reflected wistfully; that was before Sari started work at the hospital and Matsuri was assigned to a squad of chunin who ran patrol on the eastern border. Yes, Matsuri occasionally got to stick her feet in the ocean, but it felt like she was hardly ever home anymore.

Sari, by contrast, seemed to be making every excuse she could not to leave the village again. If anything, Sari really hadn't been acting like herself at all.

Bowls were laid down on the coffee table; Sari finished maybe half a second before Matsuri did and leaned into the sofa cushions, staring absently at the opposite wall. A vague sort of smile lingered on her lips.

Matsuri leaned over to shake her arm. "Sari—"

"I want you to cut my hair," Sari interrupted her abruptly; it was as though Matsuri had never spoken at all.

The younger girl blinked. _This is… new._

When she didn't get an answer for nearly half a minute, Sari spoke up again, her face scrunching up in frustration. "I mean it, Matsuri; I hate it being this long. It keeps getting in the way, it's impossible to keep clean and with the water rationing there are days when I look like such a tramp…"

"Okay, calm down," Matsuri soothed her, raising her hands in a placatory gesture. "Honestly, anyone would think your life depended on it."

Sari didn't answer, and the smile faded from Matsuri's face. She bit her lip. "Listen, Sari, you've been different ever since—"

"Please, Matsuri." Matsuri couldn't tell whether Sari was referring to her hair or the probing question. Sari's brown eyes bore into Matsuri's dark ones.

Slowly, Matsuri nodded. "Most Suna women don't keep their hair this long, anyway," she murmured, reaching out to briefly tug on a tendril of Sari's hair; as it stood it nearly reached her waist. "It's not practical." Her eyes cleared. "Okay, I'll go get some scissors. Just be careful where you put your feet down until I get back; I've been trouble with scorpions lately."

"Hey, just spear 'em and stick 'em on a frying pan with some teriyaki. They taste great like that."

Matsuri pulled a face and Sari laughed. Soon, though, her face sobered. "Listen… Thanks, Matsuri. It's just been getting to be too much trouble lately."

Matsuri winced, remembering how Sari had come back from _that_ mission.

_Yes, I imagine long hair is nothing but trouble when it's weighted down with blood._

…_No wonder she wants it cut._


End file.
